My hands cause wrecks, but maybe they don't have to
by sharkinterviewee
Summary: Jake's been acting more reckless than usual, and subsequently gets chewed out by Terry in a hospital bed. When he finally admits the real reason he's been so stupid lately is a certain detective that also happens to be his partner it was bad enough, but then he realizes that the object of his affection overheard his confession. Get together one shot.


**AN: I didn't mean for this to start out so much like the scene in AC/DC but that's how it worked out. Anyway, just bear with it because it gets a little bad before getting to really great.  
Contains strong language.**  
 **Alternate title was Ruins and Repair.**

* * *

Jake didn't need this right now. He didn't know what he needed, but it was definitely not this. Probably just time alone to wallow in self pity and try to ignore all the pain from compacted and simple fractures that was probably the worst pain he'd ever been in in his life. Every breath he took felt like his lungs were getting crushed, stabbed, and burned all at the same time. He ached everywhere and he couldn't even remember which limbs were injured the most and which he should avoid using because they were all damaged. He was a mess. But he at least knew that he didn't need Terry giving him a lecture on how much of an idiot he had been lately.

He couldn't even walk away- still tethered to the hospital bed with however many wires and tubes and machines hooked up to him that he steadfastly refused to count. He had already spent too many days in that room, that stupid room that was always filled with people he didn't want to see- people that were angry with him and wanted something from him, though he didn't know what. All these people came to yell at him, almost everyone he knew, except for the one person he wanted to see. The only person he wanted to see. She never came around. Jake wouldn't have minded for her to yell at him. All he wanted was to see her face and make sure she was okay, but she wouldn't give him the time of day. He didn't blame her.

And the painkiller that was feeding through his veins wasn't nearly strong enough, so he was left in an incredible amount of pain and dreading every breath he took. While being yelled at. It wasn't an enjoyable experience at all.

"I don't know why you won't listen to us, Jake!" Terry expressed his frustration using the same words for probably the 10th time in the past 10 minutes. "We care about you. We don't want you getting hurt, and we don't want you to die, but you aren't listening to us. I don't know how to get through to you. You're being brash and reckless and nothing we say has any effect. You know why Santiago's at work and you aren't right now? You were both hurt but she was actually released because she wasn't as injured, and you were supposed to stay here and get better. Did you do that? No! You had to sneak out because your competitive nature just couldn't let it go and pretended to be fine at work so you could best her. And did you learn your lesson when you were hurt even worse? No! You had to leave again before you were discharged and act like an idiot and almost compromise the whole case! Santiago hasn't visited you yet because she's doing all she can to salvage what a mess you've made. What can we do to make you understand that it's not that important? We'd all rather you be healthy than solve every case that comes across your desk." It was obvious how disappointed he was. They all thought that Jake was tuning them out, just refusing to listen. But he heard them all to clearly. He just didn't know how to stop. He had to act impenitent and arrogant because no one would believe that he was actually sorry and still kept doing all the things he was doing. Jake knew he had to keep up that front- the stubborn asshole who didn't care about anything because he didn't know what else to do. There was nothing else he could do.

"It's not the cases," Jake said with as much aloofness as he could manage.

"What is it then?" Terry sounded like he was at the end of his rope and Jake had to hide how much that bothered him.

"They can give you stuff so you don't worry, right? Like prescriptions? For anxiety and shit? Cause I could really use some of the chillaxin' ones that make you cool as a cucumber on ice. Because I am a very hot cucumber right now. Like thrown in a volcano and burnt to a crisp cucumber," Jake forced a laugh that he decided immediately was the new worst pain that he had been in in his life and had to fight to breathe like a normal person instead of gasping and making it hurt worse.

"What in the world are you worried about? You're compromising cases and you're not even looking out for your own safety because you're lying in a hospital bed right now! What is so important that you won't even worry about yourself?!"

"I keep thinking she's gonna die, okay!?"

At that Terry's whole demeanor changed. Immediately he flashed over into sympathetic father mode, and Jake hated it. He was much better at dealing with being yelled at than people feeling sorry for him. They both knew who he was talking about, but he still had to ask.

"Amy?" His voice was soft with a compassion that was still so utterly foreign to the young detective that he was thrown off his game and dropped everything of his carefully constructed facade.

"It's stupid. I know it's stupid. She almost got killed and now it's all I can think about. I know she can take care of herself but I can't stop thinking about what could happen if I'm not there, and I feel like I'm gonna die cause I'm so useless here and I can't even try to protect her. I _know_ it's so stupid because she's better off without me when I'm all messed up like this, but I feel like I'm gonna have a heart attack because I haven't seen her in days and I'm so fucking stupid and I hate everything about this." Jake took a deep breath that he reverberated agony throughout his entire body because he needed to if he was gonna say it- and he might as well. It wasn't like he was ever going to actually tell her. "I think I love her, Sarge."

Terry sucked in some air that made Jake jealous of his pain free lungs "Love as in..."

Jake buried his head in his hands and mumbled out a plea "Don't make me say it."

"You're in love with Santiago," he said for him.

"Yes. And it's awful and it's ruining everything and I don't know how to stop it. You see why I need those pills? Don't they have all different kinds? Can you just go and ask a nurse to-" Jake stopped when he swept his arm towards the door and turned his head to see the worst person in the world standing there at that moment. He had forgotten that he should try to keep his arms still and his muscles were screaming at him to just drop his arm to his side but in his frozen state he couldn't move- his arm left hanging out in the open.

Terry turned to see what had caused his reaction before exiting the room with a quiet "Seems like you two have a lot to talk about."

She walked over and took a careful seat in the chair next to his bed as Jake finally lowered his arm. Her face was carefully neutral and he couldn't even look at her for more than a moment.

"How long have you been standing there?" He finally asked sounding so defeated even he knew it was pathetic.

"Pretty much the whole conversation," Amy answered, and he was at least glad she didn't lie to him.

"So you heard-"

"Yup."

Jake resigned himself to the fact that there was no fixing everything he had just fucked up. "I can't come up with an excuse. So can we just pretend that you never hear that and I never said it, and we'll try and act normal around each other and a few years down the line we'll laugh about this over vodka shots, but until then never mention it again? I think I'm gonna die if we don't, and maybe even if we do, but let's just go with that, alright?" He still wouldn't even look her in the eye, just staring across the room without really seeing anything there.

"No," she told him bluntly, and his head shot up so fast that his vision was spinning. She looked serious but soft, and Jake was sure she was trying to tell him something with her expression or body language, but he had no clue what.

"Please, Amy. I need this. Just give me this."

She gave him a sweet and comforting smile that made him sure she was about to give in when she repeated "No."

He could blame it on all the pain he was in, but he was really surprised at her answer so he didn't even make an attempt to hide how upset he was. "Why the fuck not?!"

And once again she looked like she was trying to comfort him or at least appease him but her words didn't match up. "Because you really _are_ stupid."

And with that Jake decided he was done.

"Amy, you need to go. _Now_. And don't bother coming back. I'll see you whenever I come back to work and hopefully you won't be acting like such a bitch then."

Jake always lashed out when people got too close. He was a burning bridges kind of guy. Torch the place to the ground rather than make a few repairs. Leave a relationship in ruins, ashes scattered at his feet- he learned by now that trying to fix everything did no good, and that it was better to let the other person think he didn't mind cutting all ties. Sometimes it was a gift. He'd destroy everything and give the person another reason to hate him so they wouldn't feel bad about never seeing him again. He'd convince them he deserved abandonment without a doubt. Because when he ran away he'd rather know that no one was coming after him instead of wondering if anyone was looking. So he made sure no one ever followed.

"Jake-"

" _Get out_."

"Jake, shut your mouth for one goddamn second and I'll leave if you still want me to after I finish what I want to say. But I swear if you interrupt me even once I will stay here for the next two hours whether you like it or not. So shut up." And he was relieved she was finally angry at him. He had been waiting for this, so it was nice to know that it would all be over soon.

"And don't call me a bitch. You're the one being a bitch and jumping to conclusions and won't even let me finish. You are _incredibly_ stupid. Unbelievably stupid. I don't even know how you function and manage to hold down a job that involves any form of communication because you are such an idiot when it comes to people and emotions, and you're such a pussy when it comes to feelings I don't know how you don't spend your days curled up in a ball in the corner. You always run away and it's fucking frustrating." By that point she wasn't sitting anymore and had actually wrapped her hands around his face and leaned in _way_ too close. He tried his best to look defiant but he was five steps behind lost in confusion.

"And you are insanely stupid if you think I'm going to pretend I never heard that," she informed him before pressing her lips to his.

He was slow to respond so she kept working him and tugged at his bottom lip until he pushed back into her with equal fervor without even thinking about it. Every part of him hurt and making out definitely wasn't doing him any favors but every stab and burn and sting felt dull and paled in comparison to the rush of kissing Amy. Her taste was more satisfying than he ever dreamed, everything about her was better than he ever could have imagined. When she pulled back he wasn't sure if they had been kissing for five minutes or five hours, but Amy smiled at his conscious effort to close his jaw.

"Still want me to leave?" She smirked.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "What was that?"

Instead of looking at him like the hardened detective who had been hurt too many times to count like she was moments before, she was looking at him like a lost and confused kitten that was mewling at her doorstep to be let in from the cold. From what he could feel of his face, Jake was sure that a lost kitten was a pretty good description of his expression.

"I'm in love with you too," Amy said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. As if it was so obvious that it barely needed saying, which she was completely wrong about.

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Fuck, Amy! Why didn't you say that?!" He had the restraint to keep himself from throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief, but she got the full message anyway.

"I would have if you stopped jumping to conclusions," she snarked as if the whole mess of miscommunication was his fault.

"When I asked you why not would have been a great time to tell me instead of just saying more nonsense that I was guaranteed to misinterpret. So now I don't have to apologize for calling you a bitch," he reasoned, but when she raised her eyebrows dubiously it was clear that it wasn't reason enough.

" _Fine_ , I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. Now you."

"I apologize for calling you a bitch, but the statement I made about you being a pussy with feelings is factually accurate," she disputed with the typical amount of Santiago sass.

"But that is some very body negative language," he pointed out with a smug expression, recalling an argument she made weeks before about language in the work place. Somehow they were already back to their ordinary teasing after whatever that was just happened.

In the back of his mind, Jake was amazed that she could do this to him. She could always do this to him, and he was always amazed. How she could talk him down from the ledge without even trying. How everything would be going up in flames and not even a second later she turns it back to normal. How they were already back to smiling and teasing each other when it hadn't even been 10 minutes since he was sure she would hate him for years to come. Since he was trying to make her hate him.

He knew then without a doubt that Amy Santiago was better than any medicine they could ever give him. She could repair anything with just her touch- she could fix anything and make it better and brighter than before. Even him. Amy Santiago could heal him.

"You're right. A pussy would probably be awesome at dealing with emotions. Is coward any better?"

He sucked in air through his teeth to signify his displeasure so she tossed out some other options.

"Chicken? Scaredy Cat?"

"If we're going with animals there's gotta be a much better and cooler way to say it."

"Oh! I know!" She said as she clapped her hands. She was looking more than a little pleased so he was sure she was about to throw out an insult. "Like one of those fainting goats that fall over when they get surprised."

Jake couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I said _cooler_. I'm thinking more of a graceful gazelle and feelings are cheetahs that are stalking me at every turn, but the closest they ever get to me is their shadow cause I am so fucking fast."

"One thing about that scenario: You think the shadows are cheetahs, but they're actually field mice that are standing at just the right angle to the sun so their shadows look 10 times as big to you. That is the perfect metaphor."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I'll allow it."

They both grinned at each other, and it was great. They were joking about all his faults and failings, all the stuff that he normally hated about himself and would never say out loud- but when she was smiling at him, they didn't seem like the flaws he had always thought ran straight down to his core. They were how things were, not as infectious as they always seemed, but inconsequential. Just as insignificant as if they were talking about the color of his hair.

When she smiled at him he realized that he wasn't anymore of a natural disaster than a single drop of rain. Or at least he didn't have to be.

His hands didn't have to cause wrecks- they didn't have to tear things apart and they didn't have to try to fix anything. They could just be hands. That could hold hers.

When she looked at him, he felt whole.

"Are you really in love with me?" Jake asked, serious for the moment.

"Yeah. What about you?" At his nod Amy had the first look of insecurity that she wore that day. "Do you really hate it though? That you love me?"

"I don't think I will anymore," he said soft and sincere. "But _damn_ , Amy, you could've broken it to me a little better! I was already making plans to transfer."

"What? Why?" She scrunched up her face like she couldn't possibly fathom a reason he would even consider that.

"Go over our conversation and pay attention to it from my point of view and you'll see why I thought that working with you every day from now on was going to be hell. And anyone else I would have tried to annoy them into transferring, but after a week of not seeing you I would've calmed down from your unintentional bitchiness and remember that for some shitty reason I actually want you to be happy." The smile that graced her face at that moment was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I'm not sure the first time a couple says I love you to each other is supposed to be filled with this much cussing and negativity."

His ears perked up at her word choice that she probably didn't even think of the implications that went along with it. "Is that what we are? Are we a couple now?"

At that question Amy's face went redder than he had ever seen it and she started mumbling and stuttering her way through a reply that he couldn't even hear and only knew it was in progress from watching her lips move.

"Let's do that," he asserted without even trying to hide his eagerness. "Couple-ing. Dating. Courting? Fucking?"

"Dating sounds good."

"Aw, damn," Jake groaned when the thought crossed his mind. "I just realized I'm gonna be in here at least another week. That's gonna be a good seven days until I see you topless."

"You have a door," Amy shrugged after a calculating face and walked over to shut the door, leaving him staring at her with wide eyes. It wasn't the last thing he expected, but it was pretty far down the list.

"But you're going to have to say sweet things to me first instead of complaining about how much you love me," she stipulated and waited for him to start. He didn't even think about what he was going to say, just opened his mouth and started talking.

"You're smart and super nerdy in the best way possible and it's always a cross between endearing and sexy. And I've never understood why people think glasses are sexy because they're just glasses and nothing special so I didn't think it mattered one way or the other, but when you put on glasses I totally get it. And you're actually a nice person, like a really good person that doesn't even have to try. You're always so perfect and proper and sometimes it can be a bit annoying but deep down- no, not even deep- like shallow down I like it because you wouldn't be yourself if you weren't always as perfect as you are. And I literally dream of being a corrupting influence on you. I want to break your record of always getting to work on time because that morning I'm going at you so hard and fu- I mean, _making love to you_ so very sweetly and it will be very enjoyable and nice and not in any way vulgar during this conversation of sweet things I love about you."

When she finally peeled off her shirt, Jake had a thought he'd never guessed he would have. He wished he would have told Santiago to keep her shirt on. His eyes traversed the ridges of her collarbone, the slope of her breasts into her black lace bra, to the curves of her waist and it was fantastic. It was immensely rewarding and more than a bit satisfying, but a bigger part of him was just hungry for more. He was sure it would have been easier to wait had he not seen the teaser; he wished more than anything that he wasn't broken in several places and could walk over and touch her and do _all_ of the things he was picturing in that moment.

"It's alright. The moment you get released I am going to fuck your brains out," she said as if it were the most innocent statement in the world.

"Okay, don't get me wrong cause it's a total turn on, but when in the _world_ did you start swearing so much?"

"Seven older brothers, remember? I'm usually pretty good about language unless I'm really pissed off, and you were really pissing me off." Suddenly she looked above his head and what he assumed was a clock (no way he was going through the trouble of even turning his head to check) "And your 4 minutes are up. The nurses walk by every 20 minutes when doors are open, but if they're closed it's more like 10, and they last walked like 15 minutes ago so I gave myself some buffer room so I wouldn't be caught with my shirt off. And this was a one time thing because I feel sorry for you. Next time I undress for you it will be in a _very_ private place."

"And there's the finicky perfectionist Amy Santiago I know. I was beginning to worry that you were replaced with a clone that actually did impulsive things without considering the risk. I should've known."

Amy took her seat back and laid her head next to him on the bed while his hand found her hair and they sat in silence. A very nice silence. It was so overwhelmingly good (and he couldn't think of any better words) to just exist next to her, with her, together. It finally felt like enough. And he finally had some peace and quiet in his mind instead of the calamity he didn't think he'd ever get rid of. But there he was, calm and content. Not a care in the world other than the girl beside him.

"You're not going to go out and get hurt again, are you?" Amy asked timidly as she traced circles with her fingers into the back of his hand. And that was the worst he had felt in a long time- just the realization of how much of an asshole he was, how horrible he had been acting, and the crushing guilt that came with it.

He had made her afraid to ask him to actively try to not die. He had given her a reason to think she even needed to ask. What kind of partner did that? What kind of person did that?

"Amy, I'm so sorry," he hoped his tone and face conveyed how much he wished he could take it back, because words would never do it justice. Of course he didn't know she loved him back then but he at least knew she considered him a friend. And he didn't even think about how a friend acting like he did would affect her. All he thought about getting out screwing up and distracting himself from the mess he was in. He had put her in the position where she had to fucking _ask_ what should have been a given- and she had every reason to since he had placed it all into question. He had done that to her. And that realization cut deep.

"I know I'm an awful person a lot of the time, but this was so much worse and I- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for- I hate that I did that. I hate myself because I did that. I'm so, so-"

Amy's soothing shush grew louder and louder until it was enough for him to finally shut up. "Just answer the question." Her voice was soft solace and he could tell she was prepared for an answer she didn't want to hear.

"No," Jake sighed an assurance. "I'm not going to go out and get hurt again. Or at least I'll try my best not to." At her slight nod he let out the breath that he didn't even realize he was holding and allowed himself a smile.

"You know, maybe if you'd actually visit me, seeing you everyday would give me the extra motivation to sit still in this bed until my fractures are healed instead of sneaking out and pretending to be fine at work..."

Her head shot up to face him again and she didn't bother trying to hide her amusement, which was good because he didn't either. "Is that a threat, Peralta?" She challenged, practically begging him to shoot back with a retort equally as sassy.

"No. I'll still stay, I just won't be nearly as happy about it."

Amy smiled, clearly pleased by his serious response. "And are you still going to need those chillaxin' pills cause you worry so much?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I don't think so if how I feel right now is anything to go on. I haven't felt this good in forever. Like actually okay and... happy." Jake had planned on rushing through and past that last word because he truly was a fainting goat when it came to feelings, but the look on her face made him pause and leave the word hanging in the air. She was utter brilliance, radiating beauty, a scintillating star. She was so bright it was almost blinding, but he couldn't help but stop and stare.

Amy looked (almost) as happy as he felt. She wore happiness well. It hit Jake like a ton of bricks when he realized that he was the reason she was shining in that moment. Because she was happy. He had made her happy. He never even considered the possibility that he could make her happy, and was even sure he'd make her miserable, but he had never been so glad to be wrong in his life.

"I think that all the horribleness of unrequited love and the fact that my usual method for dealing with emotions is to pretend they don't exist really fucked me over. So now that it's requited it'll be better. I think. Maybe? Like I'll still worry, but instead of mental break down worry cause feelings are so awful and complicated and ugh worry, it'll be more manageable partner slash boyfriend worry."

"I like that," Amy commented, then clarified at the prompting of his raised eye brow. "Boyfriend. You're my boyfriend. I'm your girlfriend. You say it too," she instructed.

Jake gave her a weird look but complied anyway. "I'm your boyfriend. You're my girlfriend."

"It's just- I wasn't sure if I would ever hear you say that in our entire lives. So it's a nice thing to hear," she explained, once again getting the red tinge of heat on her cheeks that was captivating.

"How about: I love you, Amy Santiago, with all the shadow feelings that are cheetah mice hybrids. You are loved by a fucking majestic gazelle and god am I gorgeous and you get me all to yourself, you lucky dog," he joked turning the narcissism up to level 11. The teasing and eye rolling were just as easy and natural as always, familiar and comforting.

Earlier that day seemed so far away then- like a half remembered dream that was fading with every second. If Jake was asked to describe everything that lead them there he was sure he would fail. It felt like a complete disconnect, how everything flipped so suddenly and he couldn't even try to draw a straight line from A to B. He couldn't believe how close he came to losing all of this. He couldn't believe how ready he was to give this all up. The things he woke up knowing were true that morning were just rumors of another life, because he was certain that this was the life he was supposed to be living. Here, with Amy, it was real. Now was all that mattered. All the lies of his insecurities, what he had woke up being sure were true for years- that he woke up that morning still convinced were true- were just whispers fading into the static finally dismissed as false, because he knew anything that contradicted what was happening right now was wrong. Nothing had ever been so right.

All the things he thought before he'd taken as truth because he hadn't actually experienced it yet, couldn't recognize it. But now he could, without a doubt. This was _right_ , he could feel it in his bones. This was how it was supposed to be.

"Jake Peralta..." She dragged out his name and stretched the pause to make it that much more dramatic when she finally said the three words he would never get tired of hearing from her. "You are an idiot." Before he could make any complaints other than the huge pout he was sporting she continued. "But I'll protect you from the field mice and maybe show them to you at midday so their shadows won't be nearly as long."

"This shadow thing is getting complicated. Can you just say it already?"

"I love you, Jake," Amy said. She almost left off their but apparently couldn't resist adding in a good ribbing. "Still want me to leave?"

"You're gonna have to wait a bit before getting back to full fledged teasing cause you still haven't earned your way back into my good graces," he informed her mock sternly with a shaking finger and a glint in his eye.

"I wonder if there's anything I can do to speed that process along," she mused with a suggestive smirk before leaning in and crashed her lips to his.

When they were just talking the constant pain signals from his nerves ebbed to the back of his mind to where he barely even noticed it. But when she was pressing into him all those nerve endings were at the front and center of his brain, alight and screaming at him to do something to stop what was happening.

But there was no way Jake was giving this up.

Technically he was in more pain, but it was a whole new, better pain compared to what he was in just sitting by himself. He wasn't sure if her hands curled in his hair were helping the pounding in his head or making it worse, but either way he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Sure, he'd rather be completely healthy and kissing her, but the pain he was in from her touch was downright enjoyable compared to the trial of just breathing- and he didn't even get a reward there. It was definitely worth it. Jake wasn't sure if she could tell if the noises coming from the back of his throat were from pain or pleasure, and to tell the truth he didn't know either.

As their kiss grew more insistent he lost track of where he ended and Amy began. They were lips and teeth, tastes and tugs; their colors ran together like they were always meant to meet.

For the most part it was going going good. It would have been going great if it wasn't for his total waste of two lungs that were still unsatisfied no matter how many breaths he took or repositioned his head for better access to his airways. But even that was manageable.

The thing that actually interrupted them was so simple that they never even considered it. All Amy did was try to move closer. She was cautious in how she moved and touched him, but apparently didn't know the exact places she should be wary of. Like his god forsaken lungs. So when her chest was pressed firmly against his, he couldn't help but hiss and recoil.

Jake was chanting curse words under his breath for a good two minutes while trying to not take painful gasps and Amy was just trying to check if he was okay without actually touching him.

"I'msorryimsorryimsorry," she apologized frantically, and he just waved his hand down to let her know it was okay because there was no way in hell he was going to get the words out.

"Are you okay? Did that hurt?" She asked eventually when the whole situation was downgraded from high level threat to low. Of course it was more than obvious that it hurt like fuck, but she asked anyways and he answered.

"Big time," Jake exhaled. "Just when I thought it couldn't possibly hurt any worse to breathe."

"Are you serious?" She asked in disbelief sounding more than a bit angry.

He misinterpreted her incredulousness as meaning she thought he was over exaggerating. "My ribs are fucked, Ames."

"It hurts to _breathe_? Have you been in pain this whole time?" It was obvious that he irritated her somehow, but he had no idea what he did to upset her. But god, she was hot as hell when she was angry. Her lips were pursed into a line as her eyes narrowed and if looks could kill the glare she was giving would be the death of him. She was furious and _still_ drop dead gorgeous.

"I guess? I mean, I hurt everywhere 24/7 now. Seriously, if I could choose to stop blinking I would cause it is so not worth it." He was only half joking about the whole blinking thing, but his flippant attitude about only angered her more.

"Why didn't you tell me? For fuck's sake Jake, why are you letting me kiss you?!"

"Cause I want to. Why is that a problem? You're cussing which means you're pissed, but I have no clue what I did. Kissing doesn't hurt much more than laying here, so what's the problem?" He realized he really needed to stop talking because he was only making it worse. Something he just said was evidently the wrong thing to say, though he didn't know which part set her off.

"Why didn't you say something? I don't want to be hurting you!" Amy exclaimed with her hands in the air and the ball dropped for him.

Damn, he really needed to work on his empathy. Of course she was frustrated because he couldn't even figure out that her causing him (welcomed) pain bothered her. He was so dense. It really was a miracle that he had been working in the public sector for years when he was this awful with people.

He wasn't even an hour in and already he was a bad boyfriend.

Her hand was pressed against her forehead and her brow furrowed giving him no doubt that he was causing a headache for her. Some strands of her hair had fallen loose from her pony tail to frame her face and all he wanted was to tuck them behind her ear. But more than anything he wanted to smooth the worried look she was wearing and get her eyes back to the easy, lighthearted shine instead of the concern they were filled with now.

"I can punch myself for being such a jerk and you won't have to feel guilty," he offered, but she only narrowed her eyes in response. "Sorry, bad joke. It's just... I've been waiting so long to kiss you. You really think I'm gonna let a couple of boo boos stop me?"

"Didn't you have a bone sticking out of you the other day?" Amy reminded him dryly.

"Exactly. Boo boos."

"You're impossible," she told him, but it didn't sound like an indictment coming from her lips. Especially not when it was followed by a smile- an exasperated smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I'm not kissing you until you get released."

"Aaammmmmmmyyyyyy," he whined in the most obnoxious way he could manage- as if she was being the unreasonable one. "It's so much better being in pain from kissing you than being in pain from just breathing. I really don't care-"

"You haven't cared about being in pain at all lately, so that doesn't mean very much." She snapped. He wanted to argue, but he had to admit she was right. And that was _so_ frustrating. Instead of saying something stupid and digging himself even deeper he just pouted.

"But I will hold your dumb hand cause you're such a baby," she compromised begrudgingly, but even through her pseudo-reluctance it was obvious to tell she was all too willing.

Luckily she was on his left side because his other hand was screwed up in too many ways too count, so he was glad he didn't have to tell her and risk losing her touch at all. Her fingers curled around his and their hands wrapped around each other was more than he ever could have hoped for.

He hated feelings, like emotions and shit, but he would gladly deal with them all if he never had to lose the feeling of her skin on his. And not to lose how he felt knowing that he was the reason she was smiling.

She had soft skin and he had rough hands. But Jake was beginning to realize that maybe that contrast wasn't such a bad thing.

Without even thinking he brought her hand to his lips and pressed his kiss into it, all over, brushing his lips down her fingers, across her knuckles, traveling the back of her hand, kissing each and every finger print only to start over again.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked him like he was going insane.

"Just give me this," he murmured.

She took several moments to respond- the only comforting thought was that she didn't pull away, though he was worried she would at any moment.

"Alright, weirdo," she grinned.

Jake just smiled into her palm.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **This took a little longer than I thought it would to get out. I had a surprise trip to visit family this weekend and didn't get to even start it basically, and then it ended up being as long as it did, so here it finally is.**  
 **And I'd like to formally apologize for beating you over the head with the symbolism.**

 **The title was from some stupid song I wrote years ago that I only got a few lines into which were:**  
 **"You expect my hands to cause wrecks,**  
 **And I wanna tell you you're wrong"**  
 **And the basic idea that the singer couldn't argue with the statement cause it was totally true.**  
 **So that's where that little tidbit comes from.**

 **And let's remember kiddos: while it makes for a good story and saying someone is your other half and they complete you sounds romantic, you can't wait around for someone else to make you happy and wrap all of your well being inside of them. You need to find some inner contentment with yourself because sometimes life goes wrong and you can't count on whoever makes you feel worth something always being there to remind you that you are special and important. So work at it until you know you're special because your heart is telling you that and you know it's true.**

 **And that was a super lame way to end off that thought, but hopefully it'll get the job done.**


End file.
